


Peter Quill and the Very Brief Ass Kicking

by Rogue_Disciple



Category: Avengers: Infinity War - Fandom, Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: excessive use of the word ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 04:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14825241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue_Disciple/pseuds/Rogue_Disciple
Summary: Peter Quill is put on look out. Being immature and still bitter over the Guardian's reverence of him, he makes ass jokes at Thor when they meet again, because why not.One-shot sometime after Infinity War. I don't know why Thor and Rocket are there but hey.





	Peter Quill and the Very Brief Ass Kicking

Peter Quill saw him coming from a mile off across the rocky desert ground. How couldn't you. The guy's swagger could be felt from here to Xandar and it made him want to punch those, big, cocky, stupid Cotati metal fiber muscles. And there was also that Lucky Charms rainbow that shot down before he appeared. Show off. 

They all banished Quill here on look out because tensions were still high after the...punchapocalypse. Doctor Strangelove didn't want him getting hurt. He didn't have a choice, because as soon as he objected he was falling down a Chinese fountain firecracker and next thing he was here, a voice telling him to Wait, hot shot. 

He wasn't backing down. The landscape set the scene for him. It'd be like The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. They'd face off and he'd win because he'd actually brought a gun, a real gun, not those stupid muscles. Rocket was there too on the hazy blue horizon, but he didn't matter right now. Traitor. 

There was something different about this “Thor” dude, he noticed as he got closer, Quill's one hand hovering over the pistol. He didn't have a patch anymore. And those big arms were covered. Hah. 

He also had what looked like a really, really big axe hammer thing out of He-Man or something. Yeah whatever. Gamora said guys who packed like that were overcompensating. And yes OK, he was duel wielding two Kree plasma rifles at the time when she mentioned that.

Thor and Rat strode up. Thor looked all “I'm upset at everything because I lost something” like the first time, somehow reminding him of Conan the Barbarian but not as nearly as cool. He also only just noticed the scar for the first time which, really, looked dumb because chicks hate scars. And his eyes were two different colors, also something chicks hate. Hey wait. He knew that eye. It was famous. Unlike the person it was attached to. 

“So,” says Peter, getting swagged up himself, hand on a hip like a cowboy and affecting a slight if inaccurate accent, “My former compadre gave you a new eye. You know where he kept that eye...” He squints into the sun like Eastwood, it hurts but he does it "...his ass.” He spit, cowboy style. Some of it sticks on his goatee. He was happy Drax wasn't here because Drax would laugh at him and start worshiping at the feet of rip off Schwarzenegger.

Thor followed the trajectory of the spit, paused on it, then looked down at Rocket, causally as a dude can when carrying his overcompensation over one shoulder.

“What, I tried to tell you big guy.” Rocket isn't apologetic at all. To either of them.

Peter smiles briefly but stops when Thor looks back at him. He looked a lot taller in the ship. 

Conan the Fakearian now narrows his eyes, which Gamora would have thought were beautiful like Sovereign lasers or something. Peter narrows his, like in the movies when the camera zooms in and not because they're smarting from the sun. Oh, it's on.

“Doesn't matter, my Asgardian biology probably sanitized it.” Thor says in that deep, bossy voice of his. What a lame comeback. 

Hold on. Did he just say...He did. These jokes were writing themselves!

“Oh ho ho, that's funny. Ass-guardian, with the ass eyeball. Ha!” He postured like confident cow-rustler, hips out, flashing the gun at his side. This is where you talk your opponent down and they get all too mad to think straight if it didn't work the first time. Get with the program.

Thor took in a breath, a big one. He looked tired. Probably because he couldn't think of anything to say to that, which wasn't fun but this was real life. 

And then he gouged out his eye. 

“Here, Rabbit, hold this please.” He nonchalantly passes it to Rocket without looking, who mumbles something as he takes it.

Next thing Peter knows is he's no longer in contact with the earth. This does not happen in Westerns. Thor's knuckles are cresting on the lower part of his vision, his covered bicep like a distant mountain range covered in scales, and that axe thing is gleaming like the setting sun over his other shoulder.

“Say 'ass' again.” The words come fast and flat. His socket is staring too, somehow. 

Peter can't be afraid, not in front of his former deputy, so he chooses to go with Pissed With a Plan. When you're trapped in a circumstance like this, you use all you got: Words, fists (bad idea but it will feel damn good) guns, and best of all, rockets. 

BAM. Down goes the helmet and up goes the thrusters. Thor wheels under him, looking surprised. 

“ASS!” 

One problem his plan didn't account for. Thor didn't let go. No, he hung on, one armed, Peter twisting over him wildly like a fly attached to a string. He feels himself being forced down and cuts the thrusters. He eats his words because as he's still twisting in the grip, he smacks awkwardly into Thor's backside, which was no better than if he face-planted into the rocks.

His blood is pounding in his ears along with Rocket's laughter. His jacket and shirt are twisted up so tight in Thor's fist that it's starting to strangle him. Fists! He starts punching consecutively-- only punches once damntwhatishemadeof. He retracts the helmet, gasping. Thor is standing at an angle, looking down at him with one very blue and very murderous eye.

Peter is lifted up again.

“OK OK stop it man!” he rasps. Damn it, he meant dude, “Not cool.” Aw no, his shirt is ruined. And he can't breath. He pulls out the gun. 

"Stop it Quill, you lost." Comes Rocket's sarcastic tones. "It's embarrassing me and I'm not even on your side." Thanks for nothing, you mangy coyote. 

Thor lets go, looking cool, but not in that way. 

“Thank you Rabbit. I'll have the ass-eye back now.” He holds out his hand and Rocket like a trained monkey places the thing in his hand. Just like that. Thor sets down the axe and opens his lids and POP in goes the eye. Gross. But impressive. And he called it an ass-eye. He lowers his gun. 

They regard each other. 

“I thought you cleaned that, Rocket.” Says Peter, chest heaving and not taking his grossed out gaze off Thor until the last second. Rocket shrugs, looks to Thor then him again. 

“All I know,” says Thor, voice full of annoying confidence, “Is that when we're done with him, Thanos is going to need more than a filthy eye. He's going to need everything Rocket's ever stolen.” He gestures the axe-hammer lovechild at Wiley Coyote like it weighs nothing. 

Rocket laughs like only the best scavenger in the galaxy can, “Eh, he can piss off. All I'm giving him is a ten-thousand gigawatt shot to that grapesack of his.” He holds up his rifle and takes imaginary aim. 

Thor gives that an accommodating smirk. Peter puts his hands on his hips again, but nods. Sometimes the cowboys stalemate, because there's an even badder cowboy in town.

He's the Good, of course. Thor's the Ugly and Thanos is the Bad. Rocket...Nothing is like Rocket.

They just might make a good posse after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno guys, I like the interaction between Thor, Rocket and Quill. Should I base something longer off this?


End file.
